Dry Tears
by Hakura
Summary: School writing assignment turned fan fiction. Haruka is studied through Michiru's eyes...


   
  
::Dry Tears::  
  
The warmth of another's eyes, the fresh scent of rain on a hot summer's eve -- moments like these renew in us a heartfelt appreciation for life.  
  
~ Gwen Weising  
  
  
  
Upon entering I notice her at once, as if I could ever really miss her, sitting in her nook, her solitary perch in the corner of the windowsill.  An eagle, the one I love, held captive in by her mind.  One leg is bent gracefully before her, her bare toes resting comfortably on the warm sill, the other free, dangling off the side, just barely brushing the floor below.  Her large soulful eyes, a beautiful emerald green, touched with the softest rays from the rising sun.  She is staring out the window, not really seeing what lies beyond, but watching nonetheless.  The world I once knew and loved is reflected in her steady gaze, a world of peace, laughter and love.  A place where death is unheard of, and the urge to spread goodness is relative.  A world reflected in green.    
  
An aura of power, a shield of defense, surrounds her, carries her and her flightless wings outside of reality, outside of what our destiny is, rather was, to that gentle world of green.  I always believed that it was the source of her strength, but now, as I see her walls crumble and fall dejectedly to the ground below, I realize that I was wrong.  I had never seen her like this, not before it happened, not ever.  At times she would remind me that with me at her side, she could handle any obstacle.  I suppose that perhaps, in a way, I was her support.  Imagine, all this time I thought it was the other way around.  But it's too late now.  
  
 ******  
  
I'm standing here at her side now, but perhaps this is only what I want to see in my mind.  I'm so close, I could reach out and touch her, at least I could have.  It breaks my heart that she can't acknowledge my presence.  I remember times in the past when she would do this, recede into her own mind, hardly realizing I existed with her, for what do I know about flying?  A gentle sigh escapes her lips, shifting the golden strands of hair over her forehead ever so slightly, a moth's wing caress.  She lifts an arm absently, places  it against the cool glass of the window, seeming suddenly like a caged animal, searching for an exit.  
  
I can see her eyes, reflected now in the transparent glass.  It seems that everything has become a reflection, nothing solid to depend on any more, in my world.  Why is that?  I ask myself this constantly, why me?  Why did it happen to us?  I often wonder where Haruka goes at times like these.  Does she remain of this world, in her natural form?  I wonder who she chooses to accompany her, who her true support is.  I can only pray that she'll never forget me, that in her mind, this never happened, and I too, have wings.  Let her live such a lie in the distant heavens.  
  
******  
  
I know it wasn't her fault, I know that if she had had the power, she would take everything away with a simple wish.  But we receive no such power, had no forewarning, for God works in strange way, unfair in our eyes.  At first I tried to tell her so, tried to get her to understand, but then I realized just what had happened, and the truth is always hard to handle.  Death being nearly impossible to accept, for those who have lost, as well as the deceased themselves.  I should know.  That fateful day replays in my mind, over and over, every minute of every hour, teasing me in a sick, twisted way.  Never will it allow me some peace of mind, never will I rest.  
  
******  
  
We were chasing a stray youma, Haruka and I, our minds careless, our spirits feeling little pity for the fate of the ill-famed creature.  After all, with the end of the Sailor Wars, and chaos sealed once more, what had we to fear from a single rebel?  I see her, the only one I can truly depend on, the only one I ever really loved, become the wind, a sly smile on her face.  She challenges the youma to a race to the death.  I can see the fear in its eyes, even from here, as it realizes the warrior it stupidly attacked holds more strength than itself.  I slow, allowing them to race ahead.  After all, this is her fight, not mine.  
  
I watch, a sort of proud feeling in my heart, at watching my dear partner in action.  The youma spins, hoping to surprise her, but in vain.  I think I can see her eyes, sparkling with a twisted kind of pleasure, from my solitary place.  The youma throws back its head, lets out a long low howl, and leaps toward Haruka, claws bared, their sharpness apparent even from here.  My partner leaps back, with all the grace in the world, and lands at a safe distance.  
  
A soft movement behind me, hardly noticeable, yet vaguely important somehow.  I turn, just as I hear the youma's doomsday curse, "World Shaking!"  Its last pitiful cry echoes only a moment before the end.  I turn, full of innocence, yet how innocent can a heartless murderer really be?  The youma, now lying dead on the ground, brought with it an ally.  Perhaps because it would be fair this way, two against two, or maybe just an ill-fated luck.  Whatever the reason, I was unprepared for the looming creature.  
  
My eyes widen in shock, as I feel that childlike locking of muscles.  This youma has no trouble advancing on me, attacking with bared talons.  I feel them rip into my side, slicing through my fuku as though it didn't exist, and into my tender flesh.  It feels strange, this pain, mainly because it doesn't really hurt, it's more like a separated feeling, something that hurts just as much.  My arms unlock, and glide down as if in slow motion to my wound.  They return to my view, completely stained with my crimson blood.  Somehow the shock hasn't registered yet, I don't believe that such a thing is really happening to me.        
  
"Michiru?!" she cries, though whether it's meant as a question, or just out of surprise I'm unsure.  The youma glances up, sees the approaching warrior, and quickly makes a decision.  It pulls its arm from my side- Was it still holding me? -and throws me to the ground like a piece of rejected meat.  I glance up, as my strength flows out along with my blood, barely able to see Haruka reach my side.  She looks confused, unsure as to whether she should follow the escaping youma, or remain here.  
  
Without another word, though in her heart I know she is screaming, she drops to her knees beside my fallen form.  I struggle to say something, even if it's only her name, but can't.  My warrior wraps her arms around me, pulls my still body close to her heart.  My blood flows freely onto her, stains her as well.  I see myself, reflected in her beautiful emerald eyes, force myself to smile, and allow darkness to overcome.  My lover shakes, trembles with untold pain.  My eagle has fallen.  
  
******  
  
I wish to speak her name, as I had in the past, and have her turn to me, a cocky smile on her face, her golden hair falling into her face, saying "Nani?" in that way that had always warmed my heart.   But she won't and hasn't heard my calls, therefore she can't answer.  Her voice, my ears long for it, her touch, I long for it.  But there is no chance, no voice, not anymore.  
  
She balls her hand into a fist, and slams it against the window with all the force she can muster.  There is a sharp crack, as a thin line spreads quickly over the glass, but it doesn't shatter.  Her fist trembles, out of rage, out of heartbreak.  I know.I feel the same.  Her eyes close and another sigh escapes into the world from her lips.  Her mind remains hidden, kept safe from my clutches.  I have gained the wings she lost, such cruel ironic fate it is.  
  
I draw her image, every aspect I know of, into my mind and seal them there.  My time here is short, and grows shorter every moment, whether I can return is, and remains, uncertain.  If only she will speak, utter a single word.  But she doesn't, so I must remember her voice only from her pitiful last words to me.  I lean in close, allow my lips to brush her soft cheek with care, though I know she can't feel it.  In her mind, she is still screaming, I can see it in the green fire of her eyes.  She blames herself, I know, yet I can't change that.  I see tears well in the corners of her eyes, and a single sparkling drop slide down her cheek and travel down to the floor below.  My heart weeps as well, shattering into countless pieces, but my lifeless cheeks remain dry, as they will forever.  I cry dry tears for her. 


End file.
